


Columbia 1945

by icedllatte



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: 1945, Alternate Universe - College/University, Changkyun is a genius, Changkyun is the devil itself, Columbia University, Hoseok is half French, Hoseok is whipped from the very beginning don't judge me, Hoseok wants to be a writer, I don't know what they're talking about either, Inspired by Kill Your Darlings (2013), Literary References & Allusions, Lots of smoke and alcohol i'm telling you, M/M, New York City, Not sure how this is going to end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:25:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17568206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedllatte/pseuds/icedllatte
Summary: This story tells you about a young man who entered University with a big dream in his luggage and ended up meeting the boy - the genius, who was going to change his life forever.





	Columbia 1945

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot at first, then I realized I'm just not good at them. Looking at this story, I think that posting it all at once would've been too heavy. For me, and for you as well.  
> I went through a very busy period so this whole part was pretty hard for me to work with. I really, really hope you'll like it. 
> 
> So, this is inspired by the movie "Kill Your Darlings" (2013). It's a story with a unique taste to it and something completely different from what I've been showing you until now. 
> 
> There will be a second part, maybe a third. It depends on my schedule and on how I feel about it. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment if you'd like. Those are more helpful and meaningful than you think.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hoseok’s father was more than proud when his son received his letter of admission. So proud that no matter for how long he’s been avoiding to touch the stove since Hoseok’s mother died, he decided that he was going to cook a full course dinner just to celebrate.

They sat alongside each other on the few steps that lead to the main door of their house in New Orleans, the evening breeze blowing along the narrow street of the French quarter they lived in. It took Hoseok a good pair of minutes before finally opening the letter envelope.

_‘ Dear Mr. Hoseok J. Lee,_

_On behalf of Mr. Harry Morgan Ayres and the Committee on Admission I want to congratulate you on your admission to the School of the Arts of Columbia University for the spring semester of 1945.’_

«It’s Columbia…» Hoseok muttered with a few breaths, trembling hands holding the papers and eyes with shaking pupils reading through the lines.

« _Yeah you rite_ , my son! _Ya_ ’re going to Columbia!» His father exclaimed enthusiastically in that strong ‘Yat’ accent of his. He squeezed Hoseok’s shoulder and shook it vigorously, almost making the boy lose his balance and fall to the side.

«This -- this is incredible, dad. It took them so long… at this point I was sure I didn’t make it!» Hoseok was smiling so wide but he was still stuttering. He held the papers close to his chest and looked at his father with watery eyes.

He felt so relieved. He finally felt worth his father’s name.

He was Hoseok James Lee, son of James Lee, a novelist and a poet. His father wasn’t worldwide famous, but he was well known not only in Lousiana but in the States as well. Some of his works never saw the light, a couple of others have been awarded a safe spot on the shelves of various libraries, next to big names such as _Tolkien, Lewis, Popper, Christie_ …

Hoseok was proud of his father’s achievements and he was passionate about writing, but there was still something that felt like it needed to be changed. He still didn’t know _what_ that was, exactly. He wanted to make a difference, that’s for sure. He was searching for a _crack_ , a _breach_ in the system.

He’s been writing ever since he could remember, with the support of his beloved mother Gabrielle, a singer and a joy to the eye. A beautiful flower that no matter if withered and dry, it kept its sweet perfume and beautiful colors in Hoseok’s memories.

James Lee never entered Columbia, but his son did. Even a couple of years late, even with a fellowship…

Hoseok was going to honor his father’s name but in his own, unique way. With a new style, a new rhythm, a new message.

He just needed someone to lead him the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

_January 22, 1945_

_Columbia University, NYC._

 

 

 

 

«Freshmen of the School of the Arts can follow me this way, please,» the senior who was assigned to Hoseok’s group guided them from the front door inside the campus.

They walked along the path between two beautiful gardens, a huge pebble fountain stood at the center of a round square surrounded with benches and bushes. Then, they went up a staircase and there it was: the entrance to the place Hoseok thought he could only dream of.

Columbia was massive, it was flashy, and it was divided in many different buildings. Its campus was one of the largest in the whole United States.

Their group turned left, walked up another staircase, and when Hoseok heard the blonde, short guy at his side whisper a solid _“oh shit”_ he raised his head and his eyes met with what’s considered to be the most erotic place for a writer.

«For the joy of our students in Literary Arts, the first stop will be the library,» the senior turned to the group with a smile, both his hands proudly grabbing onto the sides of his beige tweed jacket.

Dress code was important and a must for everyone. In an all-male bastion such as Columbia image was just as relevant as scores, therefore every man, from the students to professors and even higher institutions were all dressed the same.

That’s what Hoseok tried to do as well, but his family wasn’t as wealthy as the majority of the students there. Sons of doctors, professors, scientists, famous artist and writers or sports celebrities… most of them attending Columbia because their predecessors did. Hoseok could read it on their faces, as scratching the shield of every human being was a writer’s main purpose.

So he walked again, slower than before and so he slid to the very end of the crowd. With his head down, his eyes focused on that annoying thread that was dangling from his old brown waistcoat, Hoseok could hear their every step echoing along the wide and high corridors.

«The library of our campus is a sanctuary,» the senior said as they entered the study hall. Students were sitting at the numerous desks, each one provided with a lamp and a typewriter. Columns of books and documents covering the walls and then flights of stairs that never seemed to end lead the way to more literary treasures. But what Hoseok knew, was that not _everything_ was there to be shown.

«Here you can admire rare and original editions of works written by illuminated minds such as _Shakespeare_ , _Defoe_ … not to mention the one and only Anglo-Saxon poem, the “ _Beowulf_ ”,» the senior continued. Low, indistinct chatters followed and those who were around Hoseok all gathered in front of those mentioned books to have a closer look. The senior continued: «And this is only a small part of all the sacred and celebrated works you’ll be able to read and study during your journey in our University.»

Then they walked past a pair of desks but basically no one in there was paying attention to them. Or so they thought.

Hoseok stood behind, once again and he wasn’t bothered. His blue eyes were now full of wonders and shifted from one corner to the other, his lips were stretched in an excited smile yet, he felt something wasn’t fully right. His mind couldn’t stop generating thoughts and doubts, until something way more tangible caught his attention.

A sound so sudden, feet jumping on a desk. A pair of black leather lace up Oxfords. Expensive, sought after because leather was such in a short supply for civilians with the war still ongoing.

A boy with raven hair and pale skin stood there, shameless, holding a book in his right hand and swaying it in the midair beside his head.

He was undeniably beautiful, with a mischievous grin on his lips that stripped him of that innocence that Hoseok would still have attributed him. Because, he thought, not even once in his life he saw a boy so ethereal it could bring any grown man to tears. Not even once in his life his heart jumped to his throat in such high speed, making him gawk with his mouth slightly open.

«Let’s read something way more realistic than that, shall we? For our freshmen,» The boy spoke and his voice, low and deep, echoed within the walls of the library. Hoseok felt it scratching against his chest, ripping the skin like a pair of sharp claws.

Oh, but it wasn’t painful. Not at all.

The beautiful boy stretched his right arm up in the air, as if he wanted to punch the ceiling. He threw his head backwards, his lips parted and a sinful tongue peeked through to moisten them. He breathed in.

Oh, his chest.

«“His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him,  
His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around  
and return.  
I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion,  
Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?  
Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you.  
All this I swallow, it tastes good, I like it well, it becomes mine,  
I am the man, I suffer’d… I was there.”» The beautiful boy concluded by letting himself fall on the desk, legs crossed in a child-like position and a smug grin on his face.

He looked around himself and saw expressions full of dismay, except one. He noticed all those mouths twisted in disgust, except one.

Hoseok was still smiling. Amazed, enamored and maybe he also noticed that, even if just for a second, the beautiful boy looked at him… Or at least he hoped so.

An old woman, the librarian, came running with her hands holding onto the fabric of her long skirt. She looked pale and sweaty, even if her desk was only a few meters away.

«What kind of obscenity is this?!» She yelled. 

«Walt Whitman,» the beautiful boy replied. He showed her the book’s cover and gave her a wink. Hoseok wished to be in her place.

But the old lady didn’t even flinch, she pointed at the floor and kept on yelling.

«Get off the desk, first! Second, that book is restricted,» she hissed in the end, squinting her eyes at the beautiful boy who, instead of doing as he was told to, made himself more comfortable by placing the palms of his hands on the table.

«And that’s why I decided it was time to confer it a voice,» he retorted, tilting his head to the side. He was bold and in an adorable way, almost.

Silence got shattered by a new wave of chatters and giggles, the senior leading Hoseok’s group cleared his throat and started to adjust the knot in his tie with shaking hands. He turned back to them and gestured to follow him with a nervous smile plastered on his face.

«You may rest assured that events like these are highly unusual in this campus, uh… we shall proceed now! Everyone, if you’d please follow me this way!» He clapped his hands and everyone walked again, like a bunch of mass-produced marionettes.

Everyone, but not Hoseok. He walked slowly instead, his head turned to the side so that he could see the beautiful boy with the corner of his eye. He saw him stretching his leg over that desk, eyes glaring at the old librarian who was probably at the verge of a mental breakdown.

«Get off the desk, I told you! Immediately!» She insisted.

The students who were sitting around them started laughing. The beautiful boy pouted his lips and looked up at the ceiling.

«Silence! Security! _Security_!» The old lady shouted, two uniformed men burst in the library both armed with a nightstick.

Columbia’s Public Safety was one of the most admired among the American scholar system, but that was not a valid reason to start chasing after a student with a nightstick. But that was nothing more than Hoseok’s mere opinion and so he stood there, watching as his beautiful boy jumped off the desk and rushed out. He saw him bumping onto a couple of students, he noticed his cunning smile and the eyes squinted in a capricious look.

Then the beautiful boy disappeared behind the door, his voice getting more and more distant as he kept on screaming down the hallway: «Beware, young minds! Or else you’ll be brainwashed!»

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

Hoseok’s roommate was a German guy named Günter Schmidt. He was tall, well built, average looking but with a beautiful smile. He had a scar on his upper lip and another, more evident one on the left side of his waist. Hoseok noticed it almost immediately as the guy started changing his clothes right in front of his eyes. That would have meant nothing for anyone else, but for Hoseok? It felt like a torture.

«I got this when I was in the Navy,» Günter said out of the blue, his strong German accent making his voice sound a bit raspy.

Hoseok jumped, his cheeks turning red as he realized that all the glances he’s been throwing at the other weren’t as subtle as he thought.

«U-uh…» he stuttered, scratching his nape as he sat on his own bed. His legs felt numb for the sudden embarrassment.

But Günter didn’t seem to mind at all. Maybe because he got used to it or maybe, and even more probably, he just didn’t think of staring at another man’s body as something so overwhelming.

«Y’know, I’ve never seen a Chinese with blue eyes,» the boy added while tucking his head in the neckline of his soccer uniform’s shirt.

Hoseok slowly turned his head, without being noticed this time, and mouthed a silent “What?” with a frown. He was aghast, he was puzzled but not surprised. Oh, how naïve of him to think that his roommate was going to be someone with a decent level of consideration.

Günter walked to the bathroom, he was checking his hair in the mirror when he asked: «Are you mixed? Or is it due to some… I don’t know, genetic mutation?» He had his lips twisted in a weird, almost annoying look.

Hoseok rolled his eyes. He crossed his legs over the bed and just turned to the other side pretending to check the books inside his bag.

«I’m not Chinese. I’m half Korean and half French,» he muttered, not really caring about Günter being able to hear him or not.

But obviously, Günter did.

«Oh, I see…» there was clearly no interest in his voice. Hoseok mocked him and tried his best not to giggle at himself right after. «My bad,» Günter added.

«Sure it is,» Hoseok whispered in return. He pulled out a pair of books and checked on their conditions: all he could afford for that semester were second hand copies and some of them were pretty worn out.

He heard Günter opening the water in the sink and closing it a few seconds later.

«Are you coming to the _Fußballspiel_ _–_ I mean, soccer game today?»

«I don’t think so. I have an essay to write for Professor Kegley,» Hoseok lied. In fact, he finished that essay the day before.

There was no way he was going to attend the soccer game because first, he didn’t like soccer. He was not good at it and spent his whole childhood being made fun of because of it. Second, he couldn’t care less, especially when Columbia’s team was composed of hooligans like Günter who had no other credos than soccer being the only sport and interest a “real” man should’ve had.

«Always so hardworking, huh, Lee?» Günter asked ironically. He walked out of the bathroom and picked up his duffle bag from the floor. He threw it over his shoulder and said: «Okay then, have fun with your essay. Let me know if you change your mind, _verstanden_?»

Hoseok turned again, caught the other giving him a wink and found it way too cocky. So he faked a smile, nodded and rolled his eyes and started praying for Günter’s steps to get faster as the boy was finally making his way to the door.

« _Tschüss!_ (*1) _»_ Günter greeted him.

« _Ta gueule_ ,(*2)» Hoseok hissed cowardly only after hearing the sound of the door closing.

He needed a break and he also needed to find someone else to talk with. He was well aware that he was going to need at least one person in the campus to get in touch with if he really wanted to survive.

Just like Plato wrote, _“Similarity begets friendship”_ and the night of the soccer game came with the best timing for Hoseok. He liked to think of it as a spontaneous, natural selection before he could look around himself and focus on a rather small group of people who, just like him, couldn’t see the reason for all the fuss going around a match between Universities.

So he decided to wait. He grabbed a book and opened it at a random page with no intention of reading it. His ears were focused on the sounds coming from the hallway as he waited for all the chatters and runnings to stop.

 

Silence fell so sudden it was almost scary. Hoseok left the book on his bed and went to open the door. Cautious, he peeked his head out and looked around: the hallway was empty as expected. So he walked back in, opened his wardrobe to grab a jacket and finally rushed out.

He liked how his steps were echoing within the walls. It was around dinner time and he suddenly got excited at the thought of the cafeteria being a quiet place for once.

He was about to take the stairs when he heard a noise coming from the opposite side of the hallway. Could it be, a janitor? Or maybe his dream of being the only student left in the whole campus was way too ambitious.

«Hey,» someone called him.

Hoseok stopped by the first step and held his breath, his plump lips shutting close and eyes wide open.

That voice, he recognized it immediately.

The low, gravelly tone so appealing to the ears. Oh, how could he forget? The only voice his mind kept focusing on since he arrived. The voice and the beautiful face coming with it that he couldn’t stop dreaming about, because his heart got trapped within the high walls of the library since that day and he couldn’t do anything about it.

But as Hoseok stood there, petrified, he could also hear the other person getting closer.

«Do you have a cigarette?»

He gulped, then his mouth parted and he finally felt his lungs filled with oxygen again. And soon enough, his nostrils were filled too, but with a whole new scent that made him dizzy.

He smelled smoke, alcohol and roses.

Locks of raven hair stormed right in front of him to see, messy and shiny under the moonlight that filtered through the window. Hoseok lowered his eyes at that point, then his chin, and his gaze collided with the other’s. Eyes pitch black, almond shaped like his but way more beautiful to him. Skin smooth and pale, nose high and straight. Oh, and those lips… so pretty, small but protruding.

He was right from the beginning: that voice couldn’t be no other’s.

It was the beautiful, Whitman boy he saw in the library. And he was standing on a lower step, only a few centimeters away from him. It seemed like he was about to go out as well, as he was wearing a long, black coat and a wool scarf around his neck. Such clothing only contributed to confer him an even smaller frame and Hoseok’s heart made a triple jump inside his chest at the sight.

Was he dreaming? Could it be it?

The beautiful boy stood quiet, eyes piercing his and mouth twisted in a perplexed, almost annoyed look until he placed a foot right between Hoseok’s. He had his hands hidden in the pockets of his coat, so he stretched a bit forward before speaking again.

«Hey, are you deaf?» He asked, firmly. «I asked you if you have a cigarette.»

«A – a cigarette…» Hoseok stuttered.

«Yeah. Do you have one?»

For the first time ever in his whole life, Hoseok regretted not being a smoker. If he could have gone and steal a cigarette anywhere only to give it to the beautiful boy, he surely would have done it. But all he could do in that moment was biting his inner lower lip and shaking his head.

«I’m sorry, I… I don’t smoke,» he murmured as if he was truly ashamed of it.

The beautiful boy clicked his tongue and quickly removed his foot to step away.

«Okay then, but you could’ve answered me right away,» he sounded frustrated. Hoseok hated it.

He watched as the beautiful boy turned away and started walking down the stairs.

Way too fast. Way too similar to a hallucination and a fantasy that, if Hoseok dared to blink, was going to be lost forever. He didn’t want that.

«That -- !» His voice cracked, but apparently it was high enough to reach the beautiful boy who stopped down the stairs and looked up at him. He was frowning, Hoseok cleared his throat and tried again.

«That day, in the library…» He scratched his nape, the tips of his ears turned red. «It was Whitman’s “Song of Myself”, right?»

He dared to look down and saw the beautiful boy’s expression was changing. His face lit up, the corner of his lips curved a little. He was so pretty.

«I thought – I should’ve asked you. I like it, too. A lot, actually…» that was when he realized it was better for him to stop. He knew he could become too chatty if feeling under pressure, so he pressed his lips together and simply stood there, rigid, waiting for who knows what kind of response coming from the beautiful boy whose smile got wider. His teeth showing, his right, small hand reaching for his scarf and pulling it a bit.

«Thank God… a kindred spirit,» he whispered.

And Hoseok thought that whatever the beautiful boy meant with it, that was the most graceful and flattering compliment he’s ever received. And now he had him smiling right in front of his eyes, they were sharing something that had to be caught before it could end and never happen again. _Carpe diem._

So Hoseok smiled back, he walked two more steps but the palm of his hand was sweaty against the rail.

«You’re not going to the soccer game?» he asked only to regret it right after. That must have sounded like a dumb question when they were probably the only two people left in the whole building.

The beautiful boy shook his head, then turned to the side to cross his arms over the handrail. He was leaning a bit forward, his neck tight and elegant as he looked up at Hoseok again when he replied:

«Of course not.»

Hoseok walked down another step.

«Why not?» he tried to insist.

The beautiful boy looked thoughtful for a few seconds. He pouted his lips and hummed a jingle that Hoseok wished to know, then he shrugged and said:

«It’s already sad enough to see men kneeling down in front of an altar. To watch them doing it for other men chasing and kicking a goddamn ball…»

Hoseok knew what the other meant with that, he knew it perfectly because it was exactly what he thought as well. The beautiful boy seemed to be relaxed, his eyes were half-lidded and he was tapping his lips with the tips of his fingers. Hoseok not only wished he could do it for him, but he also realized that he had a chance to know the beautiful boy’s name. He just needed to bring on that conversation and he somehow felt more confident, so he nodded and rested both his arms on the handrail as well. That way he could have a better sight of the other just by looking down. He smiled shyly as words started piling up in his head, fast but structured.

«Give the man who’s sad and lonely a belief, whatever that is – and you’ll see him get on his knees. Quiet and content like a dog before a bone.»

The beautiful boy kept quiet, but not for too long. His small lips assumed a perfect round shape, he breathed out but then smiled again. He looked surprised, but also excited like a little kid.

«You’re a writer,» but that wasn’t a question. Moreover, he was now staring at Hoseok as if he just had a vision.

«That’s the plan,» the latter replied.

«And what’s your plan for tonight?» the beautiful boy asked, with much more confidence than Hoseok could ever aim for.

And Hoseok was glad he decided to lean over the handrail, because if it wasn’t for that, his legs would’ve given up and made him fall down the remaining steps in an instant. He wetted his lips and looked around himself like a criminal with no reason at all. Maybe he felt like escaping the beautiful boy’s gaze for a short moment, just to make sure that when he was going to look in that direction again, the other was still going to be there.

«I… I was going to the cafeteria,» he said with a shaky voice.

The beautiful boy hummed as he stepped away from the handrail and put his hands back in the pockets of his coat. Despite his short and delicate stature, he still managed to give out a strong aura. He was standing straight, his right leg reaching for the next step. Hoseok noticed he wasn’t wearing Oxfords that time, but a pair of black dressy work boots.

«Wanna go somewhere else instead?» He proposed with a smile and a slight nod of his head.

It sounded tempting, and Hoseok felt like a child who’s been offered the sweetest of candies.

He walked down more steps until he reached the top of the staircase on which the beautiful boy was standing.

«Where?» He asked.

«The top of the World,» the other said.

Oh, Hoseok would’ve followed him anywhere.

From the top of the World to the most remote pits of Hell.

But first, he needed to give that tempting angel a name. Maybe it was out of context at that moment, but for some reason it felt like the perfect timing.

«I’m Hoseok. Hoseok James Lee,» he said with a whisper of a voice. He felt nervous and because of that the words came out of his mouth so quick that he didn’t even know if the other was able to understand him.

Luckily enough, the beautiful boy seemed to get it. He turned towards him and Hoseok noticed he was staring. At him, his face, his body, his soul… Those eyes were definitely able to. Then the corners of his lips curled up, he spoke, and Hoseok swore he never heard a name more pleasing to the ears.

«Changkyun. Changkyun Daniel Im.»

«Nice to meet you,» Hoseok’s smile was way more relaxed now. His whole body didn’t feel as stiff as before. By knowing the beautiful boy’s name, he felt like he broke through one of the thickest barriers.

Because the impression Changkyun gave, was that he was way too far to reach.

«Well then, Hoseok… are you coming or not?» Changkyun asked and unconsciously pulled all the thoughts away from Hoseok’s mind. In the blink of an eye, he was waiting down the stairs. And of course, of course Hoseok was going to follow him.

So he smiled, nodded and made his last, quick steps down the stairs. Once at his side, he looked at Changkyun and noticed that the boy really was shorter than him. At first he thought he was just looking at him from the wrong and unforgiving prospective (with Changkyun first standing on a desk and then on a lower step), but that was not the case. Changkyun was shorter and skinnier than him, and Hoseok found himself obsessed with the thought of holding that tiny figure close to himself.

But he couldn’t. It wasn’t right

«“The top of the World”… Where is it?» He decided to ask, even if something was telling him that he wasn’t going to get any kind of tangible response. Not yet.

And just as expected, his beautiful boy smiled and said:

«You’ll see it soon.»

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

They left the campus and walked to Amsterdam Ave, a road not too far from Columbia. Hoseok and Changkyun were walking side by side, but it was the latter leading the way.  They got to an old building that looked like a condo but that was also used to house “The Hamilton Whiskey Bar”. Changkyun told Hoseok to go in there. That place was quite well known among students, for the quality of its drinks and snacks and for the good, jazzy music. Hoseok was pretty informed even though he would barely participate in any social event. The bar was crowded that night, chatters and clacking of glasses were filling the place and Hoseok felt lost. He lingered for a few seconds, eyes never leaving Changkyun’s figure as the boy expertly walked past the crowd. Hoseok reached for him immediately and found him conversating with who seemed to be the bar’s owner. Obviously, he couldn’t hear much of their conversation but he thought that the two must have known each other pretty well for the man to take out a pair of keys and nonchalantly leave it in Changkyun’s hands. The boy then bought a cask of Glenmore Whiskey and proudly showed it to Hoseok before gesturing the latter to follow him again.

«That’s… straight bourbon whiskey,» Hoseok whispered to himself, barely moving his lips so that Changkyun couldn’t understand. «That’s… expensive.»

He wasn’t the type to make assumptions on his own without further information, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Changkyun came to him and told him that his family was, at least, wealthy. He should’ve taken that into account from the moment he noticed that the boy’s long, black coat was designed by no other than J.Press.

And while feeling like a fish out of water, Hoseok attempted to make his way between a group of men who were too busy toasting to anything to notice him. He started sweating, whispering a few “excuse me” but received a couple of well executed elbows instead.

When he finally managed to slip away from the crowd it took him a few moments before his eyes caught Changkyun leaned against a rather small, hidden door. He had his arms crossed, one hand holding the cask of Glenmore by its neck. He was smiling and his eyes were partially hidden by some locks of hair falling as his head was tilted to the right. Yet Hoseok could still notice how those eyes, dark and clear, managed to reflect the warm lights all around them and were shining with amusement when Changkyun asked:

«You don’t do this scene a lot, do you?»

Hoseok didn’t say anything, he just shook his head and pulled an awkward, embarrassed smile as he stepped closer to him. In a matter of seconds, he had Changkyun’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and his hand softly squeezing his upper arm. It felt good, so good. It sent shivers down Hoseok’s spine but also made him let out a tender giggle at yet another sight of the boy’s small frame. Then, his eyes shifted to the keys he was holding in his hand so jealously.

«You know the owner?»

Changkyun shrugged.

«More like he owns me quite a lot so yeah, we got pretty close,» he said in a low tone as if he was confessing one of his deepest secrets. Then he pulled Hoseok closer, he tip-toed so that his lips touched the other’s ear and whispered, hoarse and slow: «He lets me do everything I want.»

 _“Who wouldn’t?”_ Hoseok immediately shook his head as he mentally slapped himself. He couldn’t think something like that. Once again, it wasn’t right. And most importantly, for sure, Changkyun wasn’t like him.

«I see,» he cleared his throat and luckily enough Changkyun didn’t seem to be paying much attention to his reactions. Besides, he left him behind to go open that small door he was leaning onto just a minute before.

Hoseok had to bend himself a little to walk through it and when he raised his head Changkyun was already walking up a flight of metal stairs. The place was narrow, bricks on the walls were humid and there was a hinted smell of mold.

But seeing how excited Changkyun was when he called his name to follow him up the stairs, Hoseok would’ve never had the heart to complain.

Looking deeper into it, that must have been an emergency route. Hoseok tried his best not to look down as they walked higher and higher, his acrophobia hitting the back of his neck. He felt kind of relieved when Changkyun stopped in front of a second door, of an average size that time. He used the owner’s keys to open it and the first thing Hoseok’s eyes met with, was the night sky.

He slowly walked up the last few steps, lips parted and eyes widened in awe because the place Changkyun took him to was so ordinary, maybe even too easy to expect, yet full of magic because of how Changkyun showed it to him.

The boy opened his arms, walking backwards, the night sky and far lights were nothing but a mere background for the splendid image of him. Him, who was smiling so proudly. Him, whose hair was blowing in the breeze.

That old, empty rooftop assumed a whole new color and it became the perfect place.  The only place.

Changkyun threw his head backwards, his sharp chin pointing at the sky and only a couple of seconds later he was looking at Hoseok again.

His eyes were glistening and Hoseok suddenly forgot how to breathe. He wouldn’t move.

«Welcome to the top of the World.»

«Thank you.»

And as soon as Changkyun raised an eyebrow Hoseok sprinted from the door and reached for him. As if the other just pulled a trigger. As if he was already holding the strings to Hoseok’s body and mind in his pale, delicate hands.

 

 

They sat on the edge of the roof, Changkyun opened the Glenmore and immediately brought the cask to his lips to take two full swigs. He didn’t even blink but drank it as if it was pure, fresh water. Hoseok was staring at him like a five years old boy in front of the most entertaining and cool adult he’s ever seen. That’s why he got caught off guard when Changkyun offered him the cask.

«Here, take it. My treat,» he joked.

But Hoseok wasn’t used to drink. He’d have a couple of beers with his father occasionally but nothing more than that. And he suddenly regretted his life choices for the second time.

Just because Changkyun expected him to do it, he’d try.

Too bad that Hoseok was too easy to read and as soon as he hesitated, Changkyun smiled.

«Freshman?» He asked.

«Yes,» Hoseok jabbered and nodded.

 «Never had bourbon whiskey before?»

«Just heard of it, never tried it.»

«Let me be your first time then.»

Those words were tempting, just like the way Changkyun was slowly approaching the cask to Hoseok’s lips. And Hoseok didn’t even try to refuse it, he just opened his mouth and drank as long as he could take it. Until he almost choked and Changkyun started laughing while patting his back.

«Hey, hey. Take it easy okay? Don’t wanna be the cause of your first alcohol poisoning as well.»

But what Changkyun didn’t know, was that Hoseok couldn’t care less if he was coughing his lungs out. His ears and his mind were all focused on the sound of that laugh.

So youthful, crystalline, resonating within the sky walls.

«I’m good,» he muttered.

«Of course you are,» Changkyun said in a flat voice. He took the cask and brought it back to his own lips. Hoseok was watching, mesmerized, and couldn’t refrain himself from focusing on that tongue reaching for the sweet liquid.

He wouldn’t dare to look at their back because he knew that if he did, he would have fainted or panicked, at the very least. He could feel the cold breeze blowing and hitting his shoulders, he knew that a single wrong move could have made them lose their balance and fall down that rooftop. Changkyun didn’t seem to be too bothered by it and Hoseok envied him a lot.

Just by looking at him, you could tell he was capable of anything.

«You’re half Korean, right? Just like me,» Changkyun asked out of nothing.

Because of that, Hoseok hesitated for a second. To be honest, the answer was pretty obvious yet still kind of exciting: for sure there were not much people like them in the campus. Europeans, of course. South Americans? As well. Asians? Much more than Hoseok expected but still only a few.

«Yes,» he said. «My father is Korean, my mom was French.»

«“Was”?»

«She died two years ago.»

«An incident?»

«Throat cancer, she was a singer.»

«Shit.»

«Yeah.»

And there silence fell. Hoseok thought it should’ve been expected, Changkyun just kept drinking. There was no apology, no sympathy. For once, Hoseok didn’t have to deal with merciful stares.

He asked Changkyun for the cask with a gesture of his hand. Suddenly, he felt more confident. Suddenly, he decided he was going to let loose. So he drank again and more importantly, he did it on his own.

«What about you?» He asked after the second swig and slightly blushed when he noticed Changkyun was staring at him. He was smiling weirdly, but he still looked breath-taking.

«Me?» He was faking some sort of naivety, Hoseok wanted to know why.

«Yes. What about you, your family?» For some reason, he felt like he was stepping into something much more private than it looked. He read it in Changkyun’s expression, in that same smile that got tighter, in his face features that visibly got all tense.

«Never met my father, and my mother is rich enough not to worry about me. She pays for everything and I’m gladly wasting her money.»

From the way he was talking about it he didn’t seem to be too bothered. As if such situation became nothing more than a constant in his life and he eventually got used to it.

But for how long could someone endure it and live with that?

Suddenly Hoseok didn’t feel like drinking anymore. He handed back the cask to Changkyun but the boy gestured him to leave it on the ground. Then, he started going through the pockets of his coat. He hissed a curse, got up from the wall and smirked when he finally found what he was so desperately searching for: a cigarette and a black Ronson lighter.

«I thought you didn’t have a cigarette? You asked me for one back in the campus…» Hoseok asked, clearly confused.

Changkyun hummed and nodded while holding the cigarette in his mouth. He was struggling to use the lighter because of the strong breeze that was blowing. He cursed again, his teeth showed, Hoseok breathed heavily.

«I stole it from the table of those hooligans back in the club,» Changkyun said nonchalantly.

Hoseok averted his eyes for a moment. «Oh.»

«Don’t move,» Changkyun muttered and with the speed and gracefulness of smoke, he stepped closer to Hoseok and  knelt down in front of him. He gave him the lighter and stretched his neck while holding the cigarette to his own mouth with two fingers.

«Light it up for me.»

Hoseok hesitated. Probably for too long because Changkyun glared up at him with an arched brow.  He babbled an apology and proceeded to light the other’s cigarette. He watched carefully as Changkyun’s now half-lidded eyes were staring and reflecting the fragile flame.

Then, before he inhaled any of the smoke, he started reciting a poem:

«“While loud the red-flecked mouths of cannons sing  
And grapeshot whistles under empty sky  
While, red and green, before each preening King,  
The massed battalions break, and thousands die…”»

Hoseok listened to him quietly, until he realized that he knew that poem as well.

It was one of those poems he’d read in his room without his father knowing. One of those poems that no one in the campus was expected to read.

_“Le Mal.”_

«“…Tandis qu'une folie épouvantable broie  
Et fait de cent milliers d'hommes un tas fumant;  
– Pauvres morts, dans l'été, dans l'herbe, dans ta joie,  
Nature… ô toi qui fis ces hommes saintement. –”»

«You know Rimbaud?» Changkyun’s mouth spat smoke like a chimney as he spoke. Hoseok would’ve kissed it nonetheless.

«You, know Rimbaud?»

«“Evil”.»

«“Le Mal”.»

«Your French tongue is marvelous.»

«You are marvelous.»

How thin could the line between game and a dangerous act of courage be? Hoseok discovered it pretty quickly. He saw it in Changkyun’s face painted in dismay and wished he could wipe it off by turning back time.

The last thing he wanted was to lose the beautiful boy from the library when he just had the luck to properly meet him. Even if he knew, he needed to keep it all for himself.

His nature, his feelings, his hopes and his fears.

But Changkyun’s expression changed as fast as the wind did, and the awe in his eyes got replaced by genuine excitement. He blew his smoke, careful to avoid Hoseok’s face and smiled widely.

«You don’t know for how long I’ve been waiting for someone like you to join this desolated landscape of a campus,» he was poking Hoseok’s chest with two fingers. He stopped only when the tips started to feel numb. «A whole year.»

Hoseok frowned. «Wait, you’re a senior?»

Changkyun looked at him, scowling.

«Is it that relevant now?»

«Yes, I mean… no. Just – you look so young.»

«Well, you don’t look like a freshman neither,» Changkyun retorted, taking another puff of his cigarette.

Hoseok glared at his own shoes, his back hunched. That’s when Changkyun noticed he was blushing.

«I… had to help my father during the time my mother had been sick. So I entered University two years late, with a fellowship.»

«I see,» Changkyun murmured and got up with the help of a hand. With the same one, he patted his back and wiped off any dirt from his coat.  «There’s no reason to be ashamed then. You did what any good son would’ve done.»

«I guess,» Hoseok whispered.

And once again, he felt like an open book in front of Changkyun’s ability to spin the game and hide everything about himself. That beautiful, young boy was much more than he showed. It wasn’t that obvious at first, but now Hoseok was intrigued.

With his eyes still glued to the ground he saw Changkyun’s foot crushing the cigarette. He heard him exhale the last puff of smoke and complain its taste.

«You said you’ve been waiting for someone like me,» Hoseok said as his mind finally clicked back to the main topic. He turned his head to the other who was making his way back to the edge of the rooftop. «What did you mean?»

Changkyun looked up at the sky and pouted his lips, as if he was thinking about a proper answer to give. That, if possible, confused Hoseok even more. Changkyun stood still for a couple of seconds, then quickly jumped on the wall. With his own two feet, he was suddenly standing on an edge that looked out over the emptiness of an urban precipice.

Hoseok, startled and anxious, stretched his arm out for him, but it was Changkyun who grabbed it by the wrist.

«Come,» that, for some reason, didn’t sound like an invitation.

Changkyun wanted Hoseok to join him in something clearly risky and, from the latter’s point of view at least, terrifying.

«I can’t,» Hoseok chirped out, his voice raspy. Acrophobia was not something to play with, yet, the idea of letting that boy down was even scarier to him.

«Who says that?» Changkyun responded firmly. He was standing, unbalanced, on the edge of a building and looked completely at ease.

And who was Hoseok to oppose himself to such a strong image? Who was Hoseok not to hold Changkyun’s hand and follow him? Who was Hoseok …

«Come on,» Changkyun incited him.

Hoseok sighed, he took a deep breath and wished for his trembling legs not to fail him. How embarrassing: a tall, well-built guy like him leaning and holding a younger boy’s hand for dear life out of fear.

But Changkyun wasn’t there to judge. A kindred spirit like Hoseok… he had no intention to make him feel uncomfortable. He wanted Hoseok to rely on him in his solitude as a freshman. He needed him to.

Because from that moment on, Hoseok was going to be his only ally. And he waited for him to properly stand at his side, he kept holding his hand because he could feel he was shaking like a leaf.

Then, finally, they both looked down.

«Oh shi--» Hoseok hissed and almost pulled back. Changkyun stopped him and pulled him closer instead.

«When I said that I’ve been waiting for someone like you I meant exactly that,» he said calmly. «Columbia, institutions in general… this whole war that’s going on, they all exist to make you believe in one thing and one thing only.»

Hoseok looked at him. Changkyun started tapping his own temple with his finger.

«If you think out of the scheme, if you try to fuck up their system - you’re alone. And if you’re alone in this World, you lose.»

_“Alone…”_

Call it folly, call it a desperate infatuation for anything Changkyun would’ve said - but Hoseok knew exactly what the other was trying to make him understand.

«Out of the scheme…»

Changkyun smirked. «Meter, and rhyme -- !»

«And Professor Kegley,» Hoseok smiled.

«Yes! We send tons out there to fight the war but those, those are still here. They’re playing guards and prisoners because that’s how they keep everything under control – well then,» Changkyun’s eyes were sparkling with audacity and genius. Hoseok could never have looked away. Changkyun raised his free arm in the mid-air. «Let’s make the prisoners come out and play.»

His voice tone was always so intriguing. Like a snake continuously hissing in his prey’s ear, Hoseok felt the shivers down from his head to his toes.

«So – Whitman, Rimbaud…» he started.

«And all the others who are being kept in the closet of the libraries and banned from the programs … we can take them out and bring them new glory - »

«New words.»

«New schemes.»

«A literary revolution? Just the two of us?»

Hoseok thought maybe he’d forgotten what it meant and how it felt to be young and creative. The bravery, the gall, the truth constantly flowing downward… and the irrepressible, inexplicable desire to change the World.

Changkyun tilted his head and smiled.

«How many men started the Renaissance?»

It took Hoseok’s breath away.

«Two,» he said.

Changkyun nudged him and giggled.

«Well, so you know.»

How beautiful, how glorious youth was. And to be part of something so reckless and brand new. Hoseok was sure he finally found that one person who shared with him something much more than just passion.

In his isolation, he wasn’t alone anymore.

In those black clothes and messy locks of raven hair, Hoseok thought he had found the bright side of life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________

(*1) from German, "Bye!"

(*2) from French, "Shut your trap".


End file.
